Slain by Silence
by SimplyInk
Summary: Sequel to my previous fic: A Little Bird Told A Little Hobbit. With the Ring destroyed, the Hobbits are finally heading home. But first, there's something to be done in Rivendell.
1. Remember

Peregrin Took sat tall on his pony, his shoulders back and face bright with a wide grin. He was so proud of the beautiful Gondorian clothing that he was decorated in – black velvets and red silk, the White Tree stitched into his surcout... He held his head a little higher at each glance he got from the people his company rode by. Four Hobbits, all dressed just as fancily, on their way to Rivendell, were quite a sight to see.

It had been months since Middle Earth was free from the horrors of the One Ring and its dark lord Sauron. Destroyed in one last fiery explosion, it was almost as though the world became brighter with their victory.

Celebrations were had, tears were shed. It felt like the whole horrible adventure was finally over. And so the Hobbits finally said their farewells to their friends – and their new king. They all knew they would never forget each other.

And now the quartet of Halflings was finally heading home, more than ready to see their own beds again. But first, there were still a few things to take care of…

Merry rode alongside his cousin, who still wore his beaming grin, and chuckled. "Excited to get to Rivendell, Pippin?" Asked the blonde, casting a sidelong smirk his way. Pippin turned to him with a curious look.

"What?" He chirped, tilting his head. Merry raised a brow. "Well you haven't forgotten have you?" Pippin looked confused at his cousin's question.

"Even I remember, Pip, and it wasn't mine to remember…" Frodo chuckled faintly behind them, Sam riding close at his side and nodding along. He shook his head with a sarcastically sad look. "My, my, I can't imagine this going well…"

"What are the lot of you talking about?" Pippin squeaked, looking between the three frantically. "What am I supposed to remember?" He pouted as he twisted on his pony.

Sam chuckled. "Hmm, should we let him figure it out himself?" He asked Frodo, who covered his mouth as he tried to hide a laugh. Merry shrugged dramatically. "I don't know, I don't think he ever will!" He teased. "You'd think he'd remember. I know _I've_ been eagerly waiting for the end of that story. What do you think…? Did that Redcap get him?"

The company burst into laughter at the sudden realization and remembrance on their young friend's face. He flushed as he fumbled to babble out an excuse. Though he did feel guilty…

It had been almost a year, and so much had happened in that time, true, but he did not expect to have forgotten – in one night, many months ago, he had saved and was saved by a mysterious elf. The two became close in that short time and Pippin had hoped he'd be able to see him again… The elf, Ithilhen, had even promised to wait at Rivendell for them to return. For a while, just that had given the Hobbit an inspiration. But after Gandalf fell to the Balrog, which Pippin blamed himself for still, everything felt bleak and hopeless.

And he hadn't thought of his distant friend since. Pippin scowled to himself, shoulders slumping with guilt. Now they were nearing Rivendell, and if the elf had kept his promise, they would meet again.

Merry stopped laughing as Pippin frowned, sighing lightly and patting him on the shoulder. "Oh, come now, Pip. It's no big deal. We're here now!" He waved his other arm at the scenery. "And that's really what matters." He paused a moment before nudging his cousin with a smirk and a wink. "And what he doesn't know what hurt him."

Pippin scrunched up his nose before smiling again. It would be nice to see his friend after so long. He'd have so much to tell, and this time it would be under less… strenuous circumstances. His wide grin came back to his face happily, just as the pony's hooves began to click over the stone path to the Elven city. It took little time for an elf to meet them, bowing with a courteous smile.

"Ah, a welcome return!" The fair haired elf exclaimed. "We have been awaiting your arrival. If you will follow me…"

The Hobbits, excluding Frodo, recognized the elf from the first time they had arrived in Rivendell. They were lead into the great city, their ponies taken to rest, and greeted by many more elves.

Everything was just as they remembered it – the waterfalls just as glorious, the buildings as grand. Even the air they breathed seemed more amazing. But of course the immediate fascination settled as they were brought to a feast, and Frodo reunited with Bilbo once again. They spoke lightly, spirits high.

"U-um…" Pippin spoke up shyly, catching the attention of the one of the elves who treated them. The other Hobbits turned their attention to their friend. "I meant to ask when we first arrived… But I wanted to find someone I know who said he'd be here." He explained as the elf tilted his head curiously.

"Of course, master Pippin." Replied one of the elves with a friendly smile. "Who is it that you seek?"

Pippin grinned back. "Ithilhen was his name." He answered. The elves thought, trying to place a face to that name. "H-he's kinda short. I mean for an elf." He offered.

"Really pale eyes." Merry added, and he could tell that made the name click in their minds.

"Ah, yes!" One exclaimed. "He has been here about a year. Though he is so quiet he has not left much of a mark in our minds." The elves exchanged glances as they remembered. "…He came to us quite wounded."

Pippin frowned sadly, nodding. "Yeah…" He muttered, whishing he could forget that night. He suppressed a shiver and turned his gaze back to the elves. "So, is he around? He promised he'd wait here…"

The elves nodded in response. One of them excused themselves and left to find their moon eyed friend. "Volhlin will find your friend and return, and as soon as you are ready you may go to him." Explained another calmly. "In the meantime, enjoy your meal and relax." And the Hobbits did, stuffing themselves till their bellies were full. Though Pippin wasn't as hungry as his friends.

His thoughts went back to that night that seemed so long ago and the horrible things that made him realize how cruel the world could be. His stomach felt ill as remembered thoughts leaked back in to his mind. Pippin crinkled his nose and rested his cheek in his hand as he took a bite of food. He hadn't realized how happy he was to forget it all, a hint of guilt on the thought.

The night played out in his mind, from the raven, to the whipping, all the way to their rescue. And then he remembered what Gandalf had said, after the elf had broken down into inconsolable sobs.

"_There are bad people in this world... But there are also good. And the good are what one needs in times like this."_

Pippin's lips curled up in a small smile. That old wizard, always so wise in his way. He wished Ithilhen had stayed with them so that he would have had the good ones in his life. The Hobbit's mind began to wander, curiously wondering how their tale would have been different with another in their Fellowship. He was lost in thought when the elf Volhlin returned and reported Ithilhen's location.

"Master Pippin." One of the elves spoke. Pippin started, a mouthful of food mumbling his questioning hum. The elf chuckled lightly, along with the other Hobbits. "When you are ready, if you wish, I can show you to Ithilhen."

Merry nudged his cousin. "Let's go now." He suggested cheerfully. Maybe he didn't know the elf like his cousin did, but he was still excited to see their reunion. Sam and Frodo chimed in their agreement, and Pippin grinned at them. "Alright." He replied sheepishly, glancing back to the elf that now stood beside them.

The four stood and were lead away, shuffling to keep up with the elf's long strides. Pippin's heart picked up, unexpectedly excited. He trailed right alongside the elf, the others following behind and exchanging smirks.

Slowly, the sound of a fiddle reached their ears. The tune was lively and accompanied by a lute strumming merrily alongside it.

"We began teaching him to play as a way to keep his mind busy while he healed." The elf explained, glancing over his shoulder. "It proved to be very helpful. No doubt he is much better since the last you saw him." If the Hobbits didn't know elves, they'd have sworn this one was smiling with pride.

Down a stretch of stone stairs, the music came from just around a corner lined with carved pillars. They rounded the corner, into an open area that surrounded a beautiful fountain.

Pippin grinned from ear to ear, the music suddenly stopping, and wide pale eyes stared back at him.


	2. Reunion

"Pippin!"

Ithilhen's face lit up as he recognized the Hobbit before him. He jumped to his feet with open arms, letting his fiddle drop to the edge of the fountain where he had been sitting with another.

Caught up the rush of excitement, Pippin dashed over and tossed his arms around the dark haired elf, almost knocking him back in to the fountain with a startled _'oof.'_ Ithilhen kept his balance and wrapped his own arms around the Hobbit, laughing breathlessly.

"Yallume! Nae saian luume', Pippin!" Ithilhen exclaimed as he moved his hands to Pippin's shoulders, pulling away to get a look at his friend, who tilted his head in question. The elf chuckled. "It has been too long my friend." He sighed with a wide smile.

Pippin beamed, cheeks flushed. His eyes examined the elf before him. The first thing he had noticed was Ithilhen's accent was nearly gone from his much more muted voice. Which was a bit saddening. It had been odd for an elf, but it seemed to fit… The next was the overly clean way he was dressed – hair braided back over his pointed ears, fancy and restricting blue and purple robes replacing the rustic ones from before…

And finally his eyes – still as pale as the moon, crinkled with laughter and honest happiness, but weary and dim. Pippin could feel his heart break a little at the memory behind those eyes, keeping his smile strong despite it.

Ithilhen was sizing up the Hobbit before him, before letting out a breath. "You've grown tall!" He exclaimed, moving his hand above Pippin's head in shock. Pippin blinked, having not realized that he was indeed taller, not feeling quite as small next to the elf. Ithilhen turned his eyes up to the rest of the Hobbits, who stood grinning a short way away. "Ah!" He blushed a bit and stepped back, bowing his head to them. "Mellon en melloneamin, I am glad to see you all are well. Come, sit!" He turned his head to the other elf, apologizing. The elf shook his head and laughed.

"Tenna' telwan. _Until later_." The other elf stood and bowed before leaving the company.

Ithilhen smiled sheepishly before sitting back on the edge of the fountain, joined by the Hobbits taking seats around him. Stories were struck up immediately – first, of course, Ithilhen had to finish his tale of the murderous Redcap. Then it was his turn to listen to the adventure the four told, eye wide with awe. Each had their own part to tell, and by the end, the sun was nearly set and the elf sat bewildered.

"In all my years, I'd never thought I'd hear something so amazing…!" Ithilhen breathed, shaking his head. "And you all had me tell my story first. Now it seems to barely hold a flame – truly amazing." The elf laughed and tried to wrap his mind around their tale. The Hobbits smiled tiredly, exhausted from the storytelling. It seemed so much grander when they spoke it, compared to the horrors of living it.

Frodo stretched and yawned. Sam was stricken by the yawn next, then Merry and Pippin.

Ithilhen laughed quietly. "I should not have kept you." He apologized with a smile. "I'll let you rest now."

Pippin frowned beside him. "I'm not tired." He protested, though a yawn struggled out of his mouth. Merry chuckled. "Come on, you'll sleep all day tomorrow if we don't get some rest." Sam and Frodo waved their farewells as they departed.

"Quel kaima." Ithilhen called after them, before turning back to Pippin, who shook his head. "Just a few more minutes and I'll come to bed." He pleaded, and Merry rolled his eyes. The elf smirked at the two.

"I won't tell you what to do!" Merry exclaimed dramatically. As he turned to leave, he gave a friendly goodbye to Ithilhen, who waved back and wished him a well rest. Pippin stayed seated beside him quietly.

"Mellonamin, you may leave if you wish." Ithilhen turned back to his Hobbit friend. "If you are tired I don't want to keep you…" He tilted his head with a light frown.

"No, I… I still wanted to talk...!" Pippin rushed to say. "I mean, I wanted to ask…" His lips twisted as he struggled with how he would word his question. With a huff, he decided to start with something else that was on his mind.

"When… When you left, that last night. Why didn't you say goodbye?"

The question wasn't what Ithilhen had expected, blinking in shock. "Oh." He muttered. "I… Suppose I do owe an explanation." His gaze dropped to his hands, folded on his lap. "I am so sorry for that. Sorry for everything, really."

Ithilhen forced his gaze back up to meet Pippin's blue eyes, his own welling up. "I wanted nothing more than to say I was sorry for everything that happened. It was my fault, the whole ordeal… And I dragged you in to it." He paused to swallow down his tears. "You should not have suffered through it. I was selfish, having Yara bring help. I dragged you in to my problem, one you had nothing to do with." The elf's head dropped back down, his hands balling in to fists. "If I could make it right I would… And I left because… I didn't want to face what my own foolishness had done to you… I was ashamed, but I did not want to say goodbye, either. I was selfish."

Pippin was stunned as the elf's teary confession. The poor creature was racked with misplaced guilt, blaming himself for the horrible things that had happened in that bandit camp. He sat there quietly as Ithilhen continued.

"I…" He took a breath to settle his trembling shoulders. "…I came here to get away from it all. From the pain and the… the thoughts that won't leave. Staying with you and your friends was never an option." He shrugged his shoulders and let out a broken laugh. "Besides, you wouldn't need a druid who can't handle a few bandits." His gaze darted back to Pippin before returning to the ground.

Pippin frowned sadly at his broken friend. He may have kept himself quiet when Ithilhen needed comfort all those months ago, but he would not now. The Hobbit reached out and grabbed the elf's hand, heart falling at the slight flinch. Ithilhen hesitated before returning the gesture, squeezing the small hand back. It was halfhearted, and not enough.

"…Please don't say that." Pippin said, his voice quiet and sad. His eyes stung a bit at the look in those pale, wet eyes – guilty and hopeless, they plead for an answer. "Please don't think it was your fault… Or that you deserved what happened." The words didn't come easily to him, but he pushed through.

His eyes locked with Ithilhen's, though they flicked about uneasily, struggling to keep eye contact. Pippin took his hand away, slowly now. The elf seemed to relax a bit, eyes falling back on Pippin as his shoulders slumped feebly.

"…I'm glad I met you." Pippin spoke softly. "You are not at all selfish - You were scared. I was scared too!" He sighed at the memory of just how terrifying it all ways. But it seemed so far away after everything else that had happened. "But so what that we were scared. That doesn't make it any more our faults. The only ones who did wrong were those… terrible men." They both held back shudders at the mention. "…And every day I'm thankful for what you gave up to protect me from that." Pippin's throat felt dry as his tears sprung up. Ithilhen half laughed, half sobbed, turning his head away.

"Oh Pippin, your words are kind, yet I still feels unclean." Ithilhen sighed as a tear escaped his eyes. "Tell me, do you think an elf's heart heals as quickly as his body?" His eyes looked as though they wanted an answer, but he spoke again before he could get one. "My body is almost clean of the wounds that they left… But I can still feel them. Every cut, every whip, every… touch…" His eyes clenched shut against the thoughts. "It feels like my mind itself is beyond repair. I barely made it through this first year, how will the next be any better?" Ithilhen's shoulders trembled again as more tears rolled down his tan cheeks. "Pippin… My friend… With all the years in the world, I don't think I'll ever heal."

Pippin paused, something he'd heard once returning to him.

"You remember Gandalf, don't you?" He suddenly asked, receiving a perplexed and teary eyed look from Ithilhen, but he nodded anyway. "He once told me… 'Time doesn't heal all wounds – it's what you do with that time.'"

Ithilhen tilted his head at this, thinking about its meaning. He hummed in thought and nodded in understanding. "But… what can I do? The elves here have treated my wounds and given me things to do. They keep my mind busy so I don't focus on the pain and fear, but still they come back." His brow furrowed. Pippin sighed with a frown. "Have they… talked about it with you?" He offered, to which Ithilhen shook his head. "Besides telling them of the cause of my injuries, they… avoid talking about it…"

"Not talking about it won't make it go away." Pippin mumbled. "Perhaps… We should find someone who will help you through this?" He frowned in thought, but Ithilhen shifted nervously. "…Couldn't I just talk to you?" He muttered. From the reaction of the elves who knew, he hated to think of telling anyone else.

Pippin smirked and shook his head. "I will always listen, but… I'm just a Hobbit! I can't give you everything you'll need…" Ithilhen frowned unhappily. "But you are my friend. And I can give you that." This pulled a smile from the elf, his body relaxing further and a thankful look crossing his face.

"Brave little Hobbit. I am glad I met you, too." Ithilhen chuckled gently, reaching out to pull Pippin in to a rather desperate hug. He buried his pointed nose in his shoulder and sighed heavily, the (not so little anymore) Hobbit doing the same.

They stayed embraced for some time, before pulling apart as Pippin yawned widely, shoulders bunching up. Ithilhen grinned. "Go to bed now, Pippin. We can talk more in the morning. Or whenever you decide to wake up."

Pippin laughed and stood to leave. "Good night, Ithilhen." He said softly.

"Good night. Tenna' tul're."

* * *

_The last chapter of this short fic will be posted soon. Sorry for the short wait :)_


End file.
